


Erik unmasked

by Mazen



Series: Masked [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Modern AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: Erik is letting Christine into his life, but it brings on more complications than either of them could imagine.Following Masked Meetings and Past the mask.





	1. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Finley_Jayne who wished to see more of these two. I did too!

Erik shifted nervously in the elevator. Christine gave him a side glance and squeezed his hand a little in encouragement. The strange feeling of another person's casual touch was at times overwhelming and he wondered for a moment if it was too much for him. No... She was trying to reassure him. This touch was good.

He wasn't even sure why he was so nervous. It was just his apartment, the place he slept every night. Well, not as much this last week where he'd spent nearly every night at Christine's place, except for Wednesday where she had piano lessons in the evening and then Friday where she had gone to Raoul's party. She'd told him that he was welcome too, but he didn't feel like it was alright to come uninvited and especially not in a mask at a party filled with students.

He'd spent the two evenings without her by working to catch up on all the work he usually got done before meeting Christine. He was behind, but couldn't find it in himself to care when he'd rather be with her. Nadir didn't say a word about it, probably because he knew that Erik had always put in more hours at the theater than the former had. Of course Nadir's social life was by far much better than Erik's.

They'd been officially dating for a week now and she had decided that it was time to see his apartment. It hadn't mattered to him because he didn't spend much time at home and when he did, he was mostly playing one of his various instruments or composing. But now that they were nearing his floor in the elevator his nerves began to stir. His apartment was nothing like hers. Hers was warm and clearly lived in while his was sparse and cold. Only his instruments revealed that it wasn't a robot who lived there. He'd tried to carelessly throw a jacket over the back of the couch to make his home more casual, but hadn't been avle to handle it and had put the jacket back where it belonged.

"Don't expect too much. I'm not there a lot." He'd told her when he had met her down in the lobby of his building. He thought it was more proper to follow her up to his apartment the first time she was there.

"Don't worry, Erik. It's not a big deal. I just want to know what setting to imagine you in if we have phone sex in the future." He'd haltered in his steps at her words and looked around to see if anyone had heard them, but the lobby was blissfully empty. She had pulled him along to the elevator, but his head had been filled with the concept of phone sex. It wasn't until the doors had closed and the elevator had started to ascend, that his worry had returned.

A _pling_ announced their arrival at the 5th floor where Erik's apartment was. They stepped out of the elevator, but when Erik didn't move any further, Christine looked questioningly at him and finally he led her down the hall to the left where his apartment was. The only other apartment on the floor was owned by a man he'd never seen nor heard and he was very satisfied with that. 

When they stood in front of his door, he hesitated again and this time Christine spoke up. "Erik, if you don't want to do this, it's okay. We can go back to my place or to the theater or even to a coffee shop." Her intentions were pure, but the thought of going anywhere in public filled him with dread.

"No, no, no. It's fine. I'm just afraid that you will be disappointed or worried about my living conditions."

"I will only be worried if you sleep in a coffin, Erik. Open the door, please." 

He finally unlocked the door and let her inside. She stepped slowly into the large space that served as an entrance, living room, dining room and kitchen. The floor was dark grey marble while the walls were stark white. Across from them the entire far wall was the floor-to-ceiling windows, draped by dark blue curtains that he'd remembered to draw back, so the light could get in. Normally he didn't bother to do that. In the far left corner was the kitchen and the dining table while a large grey couch and two matching armchairs framed an electric fireplace to the right. Nadir had teased him about the boring colors, but it wasn't actually Erik who'd chosen the furniture. He'd asked a decorator to do it. It was hard enough to move - to choose furniture would've been exhausting. 

Christine took it all in without a word and he wasn't sure if he was worried or not by her silence. Her expression gave nothing away. When his nervousness got too much, he said: "The bedroom and bathroom is this way." He led her down the hall to another large room with more windows across from the hall and two doors to the right. The first was the bathroom and the second was the bedroom. You could also go into the bathroom from a door in the bedroom, but Christine didn't even look at the doors. Instead she focused on the left side of the room.

It was his music room and of course this would interest her. It was the only place where he had chosen the decor himself and also the only place where the mess was necessary. He'd debated whether to remove his sheet music which was scattered on every surface, but then surmised that Christine of all people would understand his reasons for leaving it as it was.

The floor was still dark marble and the walls were white, but on the walls were framed posters of different performances from the theater, mostly the shows that he'd composed himself. A grand piano with a large pile of music sheets stood in the center of an old Iranian rug, next to it a stand-mounted violin, a cello and a cabinet for the rest of his instruments. A desktop study with even more sheet music and notes was in the left corner of the room where the view from the windows were best (but he usually kept the curtains closed).

"Can I?" Christine turned around and looked at him excitedly. He realized that she meant the piano.

"Of course." She sat down on the black bench with a red velvet pillow and patted the spot next to her. He took the spot and followed her lead when she began to play a song from Guys and Dolls. None of them sang, though he longed to hear her voice, but he knew that she wasn't comfortable with it yet. 

They had only played together once when she had visited him at the theater on Monday after she's finished the piano lessons she taught children in the afternoon. She had found him at the stage piano and had stood behind him and run her hands down his chest, interrupting his playing. Then she'd sat down next to him and started to play along side with him, easy falling into his rhythm. 

She was extremely good and her technique was better than his. She wasn't good at creating her own compositions, though she clearly had music flowing through her and he wondered if he could help her bring it out. 

As they continued to play, he began to notice the light touches of her fingers when they grazed his on the keys. It felt like little sparks and he knew by her sideway glances that she felt it too. Suddenly her hands left the keys. 

"You know what I've always wanted to try?" She mused. He looked at her in question and she rose from the bench where they were seated. She stepped in between him and the piano. Her fingers grazed his hair, down his neck to his collar and then she leaned down to kiss him. He responded fervently, not able to resist her touch, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him.

Suddenly she pulled back and looked tentatively down at him. "Would you mind it if I took off your mask?"

He knew why she was so uncertain about his reply. After having been alone the first few times in her apartment, she had gotten used to seeing him without the mask, but when Meg had been home too on Sunday, he had wanted to keep it on, only taking it off after they had gone off to bed. Christine wasn't happy about it, arguing that Meg wouldn't enter Christine's room without permission and that she truly preferred to see him without it (and even that Meg wouldn't be disgusted by the sight, but honestly who wanted to look at a noseless man, especially in their own home. Erik still had serious trouble believing that Christine preferred it). It had been difficult for her to accept, but finally she had conceded that he was to decide when the mask came off.

He rarely took it off at home, but at least they were alone here. "It's fine." He still looked away when she removed the mask and looked at his bare face. It would take time to get used to her looking at him. Mostly when they were together he forgot about it, but moments came where he was extremely exposed and he was sure that she would run any minute.

But once again she didn't run away. Instead she leaned down and tenderly kissed his forehead and each cheek before reaching his lips again. Her fingers raked through his hair, then back to push his jacket off his shoulders before she began to unbutton his shirt. As the shirt began to part she sat down between his legs and kissed the exposed skin, starting with his throat, down his clavicle and his chest to his stomach. When she'd finishing with his shirt he was breathing hard and bucked against her mouth when she kissed the bulge in his pants. 

She looked up at him adoringly, a look he'd just begun to recognize and his heart swelled. With her eyes on his she began removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants before sneaking a hand down to grip him tightly in her slender hand. He gasped, then reached down under her arms to haul her up to him. He lifted her to the surface of the piano, the keys making an awful noise as her socked feet landed on them. He closed the lid before he leaned in to ravage her mouth with his own, excited when she moaned and pushed herself further against him.

His hands went into her brown curly springs that she'd left down because she knew that he liked it that way. The fact that she did this to please made him strangely joyous. He stroked and massaged her as his hands travelled down her back, then stopped at the hem of her t-shirt to pull it off her, prompting her to rid him of his opened shirt.

She bit his bottom lip lightly before raking her nails through his hair. The light sting created a violent pleasure in him and he pushed her down to lie on the piano. 

He had discovered that he liked to take control and Christine seemed to like it too. Her reactions were more intense and her eyes gleamed expectantly at him. It was amazing that she trusted him to lead their lovemaking even though he was new to this. 

He covered her body with his and began to kiss and nibble her exposed skin everywhere he could. She was already breathing hard and suddenly pulled him by the hair up to face her. 

"I need you. Now." Her voice was urgent and who was he to deny her? He wanted to take his time with her, but it could wait. They had all weekend and he had vowed to worship her his every waking moment. 

He made quick work of removing the rest of her clothes. He began taking off his own pants when she spread her legs and let him see her warm center glistening. He felt his mouth go dry. Without thinking one of his hands left his pants and reached out to slide a finger down her inner lips. She gasped, lifting her hips up to rub against his hand. His finger entered her slowly, circling her walls before curling when he couldn't get any further. 

"Erik!" She screamed as he hit the rough patch inside her that always made her scream or whimper. He loved the sound as much as he loved to hear her sing. He was hard, his cock longing to thrust into her, but instead he gripped himself tightly as he curled his finger inside her once again. 

"Let me hear you sing." He rasped as he stroked his cock to the movement of his finger. His middle finger joined his index finger inside her.

He groaned when she began singing the scales he'd led her through last week, her voice struggling to steady while he touched her. 

"Straighten your back. Lying down doesn't matter. Breathe deeply." He instructed as he added his thumb to her pleasure point, his other thumb running over the head of his cock at the same time. 

Christine did as he said, her voice shaking, but glorious in its desperation. He stroked himself faster and matched the pace with the fingers inside of her. Her voice struggled to reach the notes she normally handled without trouble, but he didn't expect it of her now.

When she barely managed to hit the highest note of her scales, he removed his fingers from her, slid her down the piano until his cock was at her entrance. He lifted her momentarily before she easily slid down on him. They shared a moan at the feeling of being joined again at last.

He began thrusting into her while guiding her hips to help her move up and down his length. "Oh, my angel..." He breathed against her throat as he kissed it. She gripped his shoulders to hold on as she rode him while her stiff nipples rubbed over his chest.

Their eyes met and he saw a powerful combination of lust and adoration clear in her hooded eyes. It staggered him slightly and he almost lost his grip on her, so he moved them both onto the piano again. The instrument squeaked at their combined weight, but he would gladly buy another one if they broke it like this. He started to drive into her, losing himself in her intoxicating body and merging his deformed body with her perfect one. 

Christine gripped his butt cheeks to make him go faster - she was close - but it had the opposite effect on him. He gathered his wits and slowed down, enjoying her frustrated groan before kissing her deeply. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back. 

"Erik, let me come for you..." She begged and it was enough for him. He pulled her legs around his waist and increased his pace again. Her eyes widened and her back arched, but she didn't look away as he pounded into her. Instead her fingers gripped the edge of the piano to steady herself.

His own release was nearing in a rapid pace and refusing to come before her, he lifted her hips slightly to make his pubic bone slide over her nub with every thrust. She gasped as she fell over the edge and he followed her swiftly, her name a prayer on his lips. 

***

Somehow she ended up scrawled across him on the hard surface of his piano while they exchanged stories and myths of ghouls and goblins from different countries. Erik was surprised to learn that Christine had a fondness of such stories and couldn't help but wonder if it was the reason why she was still interested in him after seeing his face. But he tried to shut down that train of thought. It didn't matter why she liked him, only that it was real which he was finally beginning to trust.

She was just telling him about Näcken (a creature who could teach you to play any instrument to perfection, but at a terrible cost) when her stomach growled loudly. They both started to laugh and she apologised. 

"Please, don't apologise. I'm a terrible host. Especially since I don't have anything to eat in the apartment." She scoffed and jumped off the piano, much to his disappointment. He would never look at it the same way after she'd been naked and moaning his name on it. 

"I bet you have enough to make something. Let me." She walked bare-naked into the kitchen, her butt and hips swaying with every step. His cock stirred as he followed her like a little puppy.

She opened the fridge to find jam and a jar of pickles he had never used and only owned because Nadir had brought it over one day when they were having dinner at Erik's place for some strange reason he couldn't quite remember.

Christine rummaged the rest of the kitchen cabinets like she owned the place, coming up with next to nothing. "Okay, so unless we want baked beans with pickles and jam, you're right, you really don't have anything to eat." He nodded, though his eyes strayed to look at her perfectly shaped breasts where the left had a small stretch mark on the underside. Its small imperfection made him favor it. Then down her slender stomach with a deep bellybutton that she didn't like to have licked, though she liked to lick his. 

Fingers snapped in front of his eyes, bringing him back to reality. His eyes connected with hers again, a stern look on her face and he felt extremely embarrassed. Then she broke into a laugh and she hugged him, both completely bare of clothes and mask.

"It's okay to ogle me, but I'd rather not waste away in front of you. Can we go down and get some lunch? I saw a Chinese café next to your building."

"Yes, but they don't deliver. Let's order from a place that does." He hurried to say. "Then you don't have to get dressed." He kissed her neck and felt her shiver in response until she pushed him a little back. 

"Come on, I just really want a china box. You can't get those delivered." Her eyes begged him and he couldn't say no to that. 

Only a few minutes later they stood hand in hand in the elevator with clothes and mask. Christine had pulled her hair into a bun with the excuse that it was the easiest way to deal with 'got-fucked hair'. Her crass language surprised him sometimes, but he relished in the fact that he was the one who had caused her hair to look like that. 

He was a bit nervous about having to order at the café. Nadir had said good things about it, but Erik had never tried it. He usually avoided places where he had to interact directly with people because they would stare at his mask or act uneasy or with annoyance because of it. Hopefully he could just stand behind Christine and seem invisible, though he intended to pay. It would make it more difficult. 

The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. He wasn't sure if he should share his concerns with Christine. She would probably just think he was silly, but she would change her mind when someone judged her for being with Erik.

They had barely left the building before a man in his late 20s stopped Christine. 

"Christine Daaé! Is that you?" She smiled with recognition and let Erik's hand go to hug the other man. He was only 10 cm taller than Christine, had light brown hair and a perfectly handsome face that reminded Erik of a some male model. 

"Philippe! How good to see you! How are you?" She stepped away from this Philippe, but didn't take Erik's hand.

"I'm good. Working hard for Dad, you know? But I guess you heard about my divorce?" Philippe showed a bare left ringfinger where there clearly had been a ring recently. Erik felt uneasy.

"I did. Sorry about Elli." She answered sympathetically.

Philippe waved his hand to dismiss it. "It had been coming for a long time. But enough about me? How are you?"

"I'm great. I'm finished with my Master's in six months. Oh, and this is Erik." She remembered him, standing awkwardly slightly behind her. She took his arm and pulled him forward. "Philippe, meet Erik le Seine. Erik, this is Philippe de Chagny - Raoul's older brother." Ah, now he knew why the man reminded Erik of a model. He simply resembled his pretty-boy brother.

Philippe reached out to shake Erik's hand and they shook quite awkwardly while Erik felt the other man's eyes scrutinize him, especially his mask. "Nice to meet you, Monsieur le Seine."

"The pleasure's all mine." He answered politely. Rarely had he wanted to get out of a conversation as much as right now. And it spoke volumes because he had been in a lot of awful conversations.

"Any connection to the late oil tycoon Charles le Seine?" Christine looked nervously between Erik and the other man. 

"My father." Erik tried to keep the strain out of his voice. "Though I never got the chance to meet him." Philippe smirked slightly at Erik's words, but didn't say anything more. 

"Erik and I have been dating a few weeks now." Christine was all smiles and saved Erik from saying any more.

"Really? Wonderful, though we're still sad that you couldn't work it out with Raoul. He will do all you ask of him."

"It just didn't work out with him. You know how it is." Christine's voice got a little harsh and Erik wondered what that was about. "We better get going. Nice to see you again, Philippe. Say hi to your dad, okay?" She hugged him, but only with one arm this time. 

"I will. Take care, Christine." He nodded to Erik. "Monsieur le Seine." Erik returned the nod and finally they started walking towards the café. He had never thought that he would look forward to going inside a busy café, but compared to the conversation with Raoul's brother, this would be a walk in the park. 

Of course, walks in the park were never easy for Erik and neither was the short time spent in the café. Everyone stared at his mask and his gangly frame that took a lot of space in the small establishment. The small Chinese woman at the counter would only acknowledge Christine, even when he paid. 

It wasn't until they were back inside his apartment that the reaction came. He had just shut the door while Christine took the take-out bag to the kitchen, asking him if he was okay. She had been talking about the rude woman at the counter while he barely responded on the way back. He leaned against the door, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and he fell to the floor. 

This was how it felt to die. 


	2. Eruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this has taken so long to update. There's been a lot in the way and it wasn't an easy chapter to write, though I have the story mapped out. But now it's here and hopefully the chapter will write itself.

When Erik fell to the floor by the door, she thought at first that he just was being dramatic. She had noticed that he was unusually quiet after having met Philippe - a meeting that had been stressful for both of them - but he was often tense around people. So she had tried to relax in hope that he would relax too. 

She had been sure that it would work. Until he turned pale and clutched his chest.

"Erik! What's wrong?" She ran over to him, gripping the lapels of his jacket and tried to make eye contact. He held out his phone to her. "Call 112?" He shook his head.

"Nadir." He tried to say in his erratic breathing. She scrolled down to Nadir's number and dialed. It rang twice before he picked up. 

"Erik, don't tell me that you screwed up with that angel again..."

"Nadir, it's Christine." She sounded as panicked as she felt. "Erik, he's hyperventilating, pale, his pulse is insanely high-"

"He's having a panic attack." Nadir said in a calm voice. "It's not dangerous, Christine, though it looks like it. Erik has them sometimes, but it will pass. Just sit with him, try to get him to breathe deeply. Sometimes it helps if you can get him to count to ten or make him focus on something else. But honestly it rarely works. It just passes on its own. Just don't touch him. He doesn't like that."

"Okay, okay, I can do that." She hung up on Nadir, rather rudely and put the phone away. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and looked into Erik's eyes while she moved to grip his hands, stopping herself. No touching. His eyes were wide, not quite looking at her.

"Erik, I'm here. I'm staying right here with you. Try and breathe with me." She tried to breathe deeply several times, but he didn't really react. His panicked eyes seemed at a loss as they frantically searched her own, as if she could save him,. He was drenched in cold sweat and she wanted to take off his mask, but she didn't dare. He couldn't consent to that right now. 

"Erik, I don't know what to do. Count with me, please. 1-2-3..." She counted, but he barely managed to gasp a number. It wasn't working. She had to make him focus on something else, anything.

Then she remembered something he had said brought him peace: Her voice. And so she began to sing Halleluja by Leonard Cohen, despite her trembling nerves, pouring her soul into the melody. 

Slowly Erik's eyes closed behind his mask and his breathing began to even out as he leaned forward against her chest instead of the wall.

She felt her tears fall again as he calmed down. She had never experienced anything like that. While she had watched her father die, he had always seemed relaxed and serene, even in his final moments. He hadn't been in much pain according to his nurse and hadn't feared death.

What she had seen in Erik had been absolute fear and pain. She didn't know much about panic attacks, but she had heard that it could feel like one was dying. Was it how Erik had felt?

Her song ended and they sat in complete silence, except for Erik's heavy, but now calm breathing. She wondered if he had fallen asleep. She didn't want to move him. Then he reached for her hand, but hesitated, so she put her hand on his and squeezed it softly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered in a hoarse voice. "You weren't supposed to see that."

"Don't apologize. I'm sorry for talking you into going out in public. I know you don't like that."

"It's not your fault. I'm a grown man. I could just have said no." He mumbled. However Christine knew that he wouldn't say no to that sort of thing, not with her. It was her responsibility to be aware of that, as much as possible. She wondered why he hadn't told her about these panic attacks.

"Let's get off the floor. You need to eat." He rose from the floor, though she noticed how unsteady he seemed to be with his long limbs compared to his normal graceful self. When he took her hand to pull her up, she tried to keep as much of her body weight off him as possible. She had hoped that he wouldn't notice, but the way, he eyed her, told her that he did.

She was worried about him, even as she tried to let it go. He was trying to act like it hadn't happened and she wouldn't let it ruin their day. However Erik got really tired after his attack and they settled down in his bed when they had eaten. He talked her into watching a strange German sci-fi show, then fell asleep pretty quickly. Luckily she got very engrossed in the show and barely noticed how long he slept.

And when he woke up, he was _very_ apologetic and made it up to her several times, making her so relaxed and exhausted that when it was time for dinner, she didn't mind at all that they just ordered take away. To her surprise Erik decided to order groceries online and started cooking something delicious in the kitchen while he told her to stay naked in bed and continue the show. A woman could get used to that.

"Christine, dinner's ready!" He called her after only half an hour. She sneaked into his wardrobe and nicked one of his shirts, then realized that it was custom made, probably to accommodate his long limps and tall, thin frame. She hung it back and instead found a grey over-washed band t-shirt in the back. It only covered the top of her thighs, but it would have to do. Quickly putting on her panties, she was ready just as he called her name again.

Her dinner outfit was a succes, she surmised, as his mouth gaped and he dropped the spoon in his hand when she walked in. She strolled nonchalantly over and sat down at the smaller dinner table he had set up in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He had gone all out with the setting: A dark blue tablecloth, flowers and lit candles. It was very romantic, though a bit cliche, but she appreciated the thought. Nadir had already warned her that most of Erik's knowledge of relationships came from romantic movies - of which he had seen almost none - and classic romantic novels from the 19th century.

She noted with frustration that Erik was still wearing his mask. He had in fact been wearing it since they went down to the café, not even taking it off when he slept or pleasured her this afternoon, and it was getting on her nerves. She didn't really like the way the mask hid him away. He knew that she didn't care about his face, she was actually kind of fond of it by now. But perhaps this was about hiding himself away after his panic attack which might have made him feel vulnerable. She had to address it then. 

He didn't say a word to her before she had sat down and looked at him. He had been staring at her body and she didn't mind the slightest. When she sat down, the view was obstructed and he seemed to regain his sense. He cleared his throat. 

"I know you like pasta, but I wanted to keep it simple, so I've made Carbonara." He came down to the table with two deep plates and put them on the table. There was absolutely nothing simple about this pasta. It smelled fantastic, the pasta almost looked like it had been carefully placed and he had decorated the dish with parsley and bacon. It was almost like being in a fancy restaurant and it might've been his goal, she realized as she took in her surroundings.

"Erik, you didn't have to do all this for me." She commented as he sat down after pouring the wine. She suddenly felt under-dressed as he sat there in his regular suit, though without a tie. She was practically naked. 

"It's nothing. I just wanted to have a nice evening with you. Please, dig in." He sipped the wine, but she noticed that his eyes glanced at her to see her reaction. The pasta was of course amazing. She'd rarely had anything that good and a small appreciative noise escaped her as she chewed.

"Where in the world have you learned to cook?" She exclaimed when she had finished the first bite. His lips upturned in a shy smile. 

"Self taught, really. Even if you only have yourself to cook for, it's still nice to have good food." He shrugged at the statement  but Christine's heart constricted. So many years alone... He might have Nadir as a friend, but it didn't change the fact that he ate alone most nights and couldn't feel comfortable to go out to eat. She understood why he didn't want to survive on easy dinners and take away. 

They ate in comfortable silence, Christine enjoying the wonderful food. She really didn't mind having found a man who could cook. While she could handle herself in a kitchen, unlike Meg and especially Raoul, she was far from great. It was nice to think that she'd be able to eat a decent home-cooked meal once in a while. Perhaps they could even host a dinner party at some point. She didn't have that many friends, but it could be fun anyway. 

She looked across the table at Erik who seemed lost in his own thoughts. He probably wouldn't be comfortable with a dinner party if the failure of the small trip to the café earlier was any indication. The only reason he had been at Meg’s masquerade birthday party was because Nadir had been sick and had coaxed him to it and even then he had fled to the balcony. His issues seemed to be bigger than she had realized.

"Erik, about what happened earlier..." She began, then stopped when she didn't know what to say. He lay down his utensils and looked at her in well hidden shame, but said nothing. "Is that a regular occurrence?" This time he looked away, down at the city.

"It usually isn't, but I guess it depends." His voice was soft, but otherwise impassive.

"Depends on what?" 

"The situations I find myself in." He really didn't want to talk about this. He wasn't even looking at her and the mask hid almost everything else she could use to discern his mood. Then she bit mark in what he said.

"When you say that it usually isn't, does that mean that it recently has started to become more regular?" This time he actually looked at her, his eyes hesitant, but it was enough to confirm it for her. "Like when you met me?" This time a pained expression swept over his features before he hid it. 

"Christine, it's nothing so serious, I just have to get used to being outside more, being other places than home and the theater. It's fine." He spoke faster than she'd ever heard before.

"Why haven't you told me? Have you seen a therapist or a doctor? Perhaps you could-"

"No!" He interrupted her, suddenly seething with rage. He rose from his chair and hit the table with his fist, so everything rattled. Christine got up as well in shock. "I'm not seeing anyone about this. I can handle it myself!" His anger frightened her, so different from his usual composed self. She knew that he had a temper when he worked, but nothing like this.

"Erik, I just want to help. I hate to see you suffer." She stammered, but he didn't notice the fear in her voice or perhaps he didn't mind that she was frightened. 

"I don't want any help! Not yours, not anyone's." He turned around and walked towards the hall in fast strides. She followed him nervously. While his anger scared her, she wasn't really scared of him. She called after him.

"Where are you going?" 

"I'm getting your things. I need to be alone." His voice was suddenly eerily calm as he slid into the bedroom, emerging not ten seconds later with her things and dropped her clothes in her arms. "Put on your clothes." She felt tears threaten to fall as she realized that he was being completely serious. 

"You really want me to leave?"

"Yes." His short answer seemed to stab at her heart. Suddenly her current attire made her feel very exposed. She hurried into the bathroom, locked the door and let the tears fall quietly as she slid on her clothes. She threw the shirt she had borrowed into the laundry basket. Why did he want her to leave? She must've struck a nerve when she talked about getting help, but how could that be enough to set him off like that?

When she was finished, she carefully stepped out. Erik was at the piano, his fingers barely touching the keys, but he was clearly playing something in his mind. He looked up, his light hazel eyes still flaming.

"I've called you a cab. Let me follow you down." He walked down the hall to the living room without looking back to see if she was following him. It was so strange how he suddenly avoided her when he'd been so loving the whole day. Her chest hurt and her throat constricted when the notion that this actually might be the end of their budding relationship. Hadn't they been through this once? 

He had already the front door open and her coat ready. Even the elevator was waiting for them. She moved like it was a horrible dream and she would wake up to find the normal Erik beside her, but it was very real when Erik locked the door to his apartment behind them and pushed the button for the ground floor. In the elevator the silence was stifiling, almost nauseating.

"When will I see you again?" She asked quietly without looking at him. She could feel that he wasn't looking at her either.

"I'll call you." His calm, smooth voice was probably the worst of all his. He'd told her that he was in love with her, she had even felt it in his touch, seen it in his smile, and yet here he was: Unaffected as he told her to leave. It took her all her energy to keep the tears from falling. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction if he wanted to hurt her after she had angered him.

When they reached the ground floor, he headed straight for the lobby, but this time he actually glanced back at her to ensure that she was behind him. Perhaps he thought that she would try to stay. She wasn't that desperate. He was so busy looking back at her with chilling eyes that he didn't see the crowd outside before he had opened the lobby door.

"Erik le Seine?" A man with a small recorder asked. Christine didn't get to see the man's face as a flash from a camera almost blinded her. "Do you live here? Have you bought an apartment here with your parents' money?" Erik seemed rooted to the spot in fear.

"Erik, Erik? Why are you wearing a mask? What are you hiding? Plastic surgery?" Another reporter called while several more cameras flashed. More reporters approached them and one even stepped in front of Christine.

"Are you Erik's lover?" She tuned out anything else, she was asked. Erik was frozen in place and she was worried about his reaction to all this. She gripped his arm and pulled him into the lobby. The reporters tried to follow them, but luckily the guard from the lobby desk was there and stopped them all, though the camera flashes didn't seize. 

She pulled Erik to the elevator, relieved that it was still on this floor. She shoved him in and took one last look at the crowd of reporters yelling after them before she followed him and pressed the button. He would have to accept that she was here for now because she wasn't leaving him like this.


	3. Disorientation

When they were safely in the elevator ascending to Erik's apartment floor, the panic attack started. She had barely turned around before he fell back against the steel side of the elevator. Once again she saw his neck and jaw turn pale while small shivers started, quickly turning into tremors. He gripped his throat and began to heave for air.

She was by his side instantly and put her hand on his chest to feel the thundering beat of his heart. It couldn't be normal. She searched for his phone, ignoring his weak hands that tried to swat her hands away, but it seemed that he hadn't brought his phone down with him. She didn't have Nadir's number coded in on her own phone, so she called Meg who did have it.

"Hi Chrissy!" Her friend sounded so careless, a stark contrast to the emotions in Christine at the moment.

"Meg, I need you to call Nadir _right now_ and tell him to come to Erik's place immediately!" Her voice sounded more controlled than she felt. 

"God, what's-" The elevator arrived at its destination and Christine hung up on her friend. She needed to get Erik into safety. He was staring into space now, but trembling violently and gasping for air. It was horrible to witness.

"Erik, we're going inside. Come with me." She found his keys in his inner pocket and gripped his arm to pull him upwards, but he remained stiff as a board. The doors began to close and she hit the 'open doors' button so hard that a stab of pain shot up her arm, making her hiss in pain. She threw her things and the keys into the hall, then with all her strength managed to pull Erik out of the elevator by his shoulders. 

When she released his shoulders to unlock the door, he fell back on the floor, making his head hit marble floor a bit too hard. In that instant he turned completely still, his eyes closing. She thought she screamed, but no sound came out. Kneeling down beside him, she noticed that his labored breathing had gone silent, but hadn't stopped. The same went for his rapid heart. She wasn't sure if she should be worried or relieved by this development.

He was easier to drag inside when he wasn't trembling and for once she was glad that he was so thin, but she couldn't drag him further inside than just enough to close the door. She found a pillow to his head and a blanket to cover him. He was so much colder than usual. Then she ran to the kitchen to wet a cloth and get a glass of water. She wasn't sure what to do with any of it - it was just what her dad would do when she was sick - and soon found herself sitting against the wall in numbness while her boyfriend looked as if he was dying in front of her.

She began to sing again because it seemed to have worked the last time and though she surely sounded awful, she noticed his chest rise and fall more steadily after the first verse. So she kept singing the same lullaby over and over, swearing not to stop before he woke up.

That's where Nadir found her. He must've knocked, but she hadn't heard it. It wasn't until he said her name that she looked away from Erik and noticed him at all. He stood in the door and looked from her to Erik in shock.

"What happened, Christine? What's with the reporters downstairs?" His concerned, yet calm questions that she couldn't answer undid her and she started to cry desperately. He gathered her into his arms and led her to the couch while whispering reassuring words. After a few minutes she began to calm down and remembered Erik.

"Nadir, Erik. He... he hit his head when I... I just tried to get him inside and he didn't move, he just stared and-and I needed to unlock the door and it just happened." Her breath hitched as she tried to explain the severity of the situation. Nadir headed back to Erik's side and checked his pulse and lifted his eyelids without removing the mask. Christine wondered to whose benefit that was. 

"That's why he's unconscious?"

"I don't know. He had another panic attack after seeing the reporters and..." She didn't know what more to say. She had no idea what was happening.

"Al’ama!" Nadir's eyes widened. "He saw them then." Christine nodded, but she wasn't sure he noticed. "Well, there's only one thing to do when we don't know why he's unconscious." The Iranian man grabbed the glass of water Christine had brought down and threw the contents in Erik's face.

She gaped at his action, but instantly looked for a reaction. Anything. And for a brief dreadful moment Erik seemed to be truly lost to the world. Then he gasped and began to cough. Suddenly he sat up in a fluid motion, his body perfectly angled as the letter L. She found her legs and ran over to sit by him.

"Erik, are you okay?" She touched his hand, but he recoiled from her, looking at her with hesitation in his eyes. She looked up at Nadir who had gotten a towel to dry him with. Erik noticed it too and grabbed the towel out of his friend's hands, rose from the floor and raced down the hall towards the bedroom.

Nadir and Christine looked at each other in silence. She must've asked him a silent question and she wondered what it was when he shook his head. Did he mean that she shouldn't be worried? Or that she shouldn't follow Erik?

"Christine, let me pour you a drink. I know I could use one." Nadir went to the kitchen and reached down in one of the cabinets to find a bottle of whiskey. He was obviously quite familiar with its place in the kitchen. He poured two generous glasses and handed her one when she came to the kitchen area. She noticed him eyeing the abandoned dinner at the small table by the window, but said nothing.

"I thought muslims didn't drink alcohol." She commented, not judging, just curious.

"Yes, well, as you might imagine, I sometimes have to deal with certain complicated things around here and alcohol seems to make it a bit easier. I haven't been much of a muslim since I left Iran." He suddenly sounded like he regretted something, but it might just have been nostalgia. "Tell me, please, Christine. What happened tonight?" She looked nervously down the hall to where Erik had disappeared. She didn't want to overshare. Much of this was between her and Erik, but she really needed to talk to someone.

She told him about the reporters and Erik's second panic attack while sipping the strong whiskey, but held back everything that had happened before that. Nadir seemed to notice this, but didn't press further for information. When he asked how the reporters knew where to find Erik, she shook her head. She just didn't know.

Christine became alarmed when she realized how long Erik had been gone.

"What if he's hurt?" She ran down the hall to the bedroom. It was completely dark, but she could see a shadow sitting at the end of the bed inside. The thin silhouette told her that he was shirtless and his profile was noseless which meant he had finally shed the mask.

"Erik?" She whispered in trepidation at the eerie sight, still standing in the door opening. The shadow didn't move. "Can I come in?" The shadow began to slump slightly and she noticed the knobs of his spine all the way down his back. It should've disgusted her, but it didn't. Normally he just looked lean, not skinny, because it was easy to see the subtle muscles under the skin in the light, but as he sat like this, his lack of body fat became very apparent.

The hold of his back seemed to give out and she rushed to him as he fell forwards, his hands on his knees catching his head. She knelt down in front of him and cradled his head while running her fingers through his hair. She couldn't see his face nor hear anything, but she knew that he was crying. At the corner of her eye she saw Nadir stepping away from the door and she silently thanked him. Erik wouldn't want anyone to see him like this. It was a miracle that he hadn't thrown Christine out of his home again.

Erik's skin was colder than normal and clammy. Carefully she pushed him down on the bed and covered him in the tangled sheets she had left a few hours ago. He let her, but he hid his face away from her as if it mattered to her. She shifted him to his side to give him the privacy he seemed to need and laid her front against his back, sliding an arm around his waist. It was an awkward position because her frame was so small compared to his long limps and broad shoulders, but none of it mattered. 

Slowly he relaxed in her embrace and let her hold him in the darkness. None of them said a word. There wasn't anything she could say that would make anything better at this moment. All she could do was be there.

With her chest against his back she could feel his lungs fill fully as he inhaled, then quietly exhaling. His breathing was finally calm. It was comforting after the long day they'd had. She had slowly begun to relax when his intense voice suddenly vibrated through his body.

"I'm sorry." It was barely a croak and small quivers in him told her that he had begun to cry softly again, so she held him tighter. "I never wanted to drag you into this."

"It's not your fault. I know you're under a lot of pressure right now, but I promise all this will end soon and I'll stay here with you as long as you need me." The reporters would grow tired of this soon enough and then they could move forward. Perhaps she could even talk him into getting help with his anxiety. It was difficult for her to know that it had gotten worse after he had met her, but she trusted that they were better together than apart, despite these complications.

"It's more than that, Christine." His voice wavered when he said her name. "There... there are things you don't know yet. About me. That I didn't get to tell you when I told you about my past and I wanted to in my own time, but now you'll know and-and I'll rather have that you hear it from me."

"Then tell me. I won't run." She was sure of this. Whatever it was, they could get through it. She loved him. After today there was no doubt in her mind about it. Her heart swelled at the thought and she rolled him over to kiss him chastely, glad to feel him return it. He inhaled deeply and took her face in his hands. His eyes shined, despite the dark, a golden glimmer that was unsettling, yet very familiar and it felt safe.

"Christine, this... When the news papers will write about me and my mask, it will be over." He closed his eyes and swallowed notably. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll be recognized."

"Recognized by who?"

"The Polizia." He sat up, pulling away from her to her dismay, then uttering the words she'd never expected from him:"Christine, I'm wanted for murder."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Al’ama" means damn in Arabic. 
> 
> I know Erik's panic attacks seem extreme, but sadly this is the reality for some of those who suffer from panic attacks. It's very individual how people react. Erik's attacks are very apparent to those around him, but it doesn't make them worse. A panic attack often isn't very easy to detect for others, but can still feel horrible to the sufferer.  
> A panic attack should always be taken seriously and if you or one close to you experience one, please make sure to get help.


	4. Exposition

He didn't dare look her in the eyes as he said it. Her reaction would be impossible to predict, but the hurt and fear would be clear in her eyes, he knew it. He'd caused her enough of that, hadn't he? It wasn't really fair of him to drag her through this, yet the thought of letting her go was enough to tear up his insides. He needed her and he was selfish. 

He had been awful to her tonight. As soon as she had brought up the idea of getting him help with his anxiety attacks, he had lashed out at her and thrown her out of his apartment. Still she hadn't left him when he had been surrounded by reporters and found himself paralyzed. She was too good, too compassionate which was one of the reasons why she would be mortified by his confession.

"What do you mean, murder?" Her voice was suddenly weak, uncertain and as he guessed, afraid. He felt her eyes bore into him, but he couldn't bear to look at her. "You didn't actually kill someone..."

"The Polizia disagrees."

"Who's that? The police in Spain or Italy?" He had forgotten that Christine, despite being well travelled, was only bilingual. He couldn't expect her to know it.

"Italy." He answered. A long moment of silence followed where he grew more uncomfortable. He reached for the shirt he had shredded earlier when Nadir had drenched him in water. It was still moist, as was his mask on the nightstand, but he needed to be covered. Luckily the rubber inside the mask was dry. It was so rough on his skin when it had been recently wet. Beside him Christine shifted nervously.

"Erik, I need you to tell me more. You can't just say something like that and not elaborate." She was right, of course, but he wasn't sure if he could talk about it. He hadn't visited that part of his life in so long, with good reason. He sighed. She deserved to know. She hadn't run from his face and even now she was still there.

"As you know Nadir and I arrived in Europe when I was 17. He was a bit older. We travelled for years, but settled in Paris when I was 19. Then my mother died, disrupting our lives when we had just found jobs and an apartment. I was disturbed by the attention, but managed to avoid the reporters. The attention died down and I was anonymous, but I felt uneasy and vulnerable and I was so angry at the world." He looked briefly at Christine, but her expression didn't give anything away.

"Nadir understood and suggested that I travelled alone for a while. We would each gather capital to start our theater. I actually listened to him. I felt so lost. Somehow I found myself in Italy. As I didn't want to spend any of the money I had inherited, I made money by using my mysterious looks to draw an audience and perform tricks. It wasn't much, but enough to live by as I tracked through the country. Then I met a man near Rome."

He pictured the elderly man in his head. A stern expression, yet kind eyes with wrinkles from smiling most of his life. His hair hadn't greyed much, despite his advanced age. He hadn't taken any of Erik's bullshit and had somehow calmed the wrath inside the young man.

"Giovanni was a stone mason. I don't know what he saw in me, but he convinced me to work with him and let him teach me his craft. He let me into his home and treated me with kindness unlike any I had ever known, except from Nadir. At first I distrusted him like I'd come to do with all people, but Giovanni became like a father to me in the two years I stayed with him." Erik saw Christine smile softly in the dark with tears in her eyes. She knew that he had never had a father which was strange for her as she had only known her father. She had been so close with Gustave. 

"But Giovanni had several children already, one of them my age and two of them older. The last one was younger..." He pictured the beautiful girl, still a teenager when she returned from her boarding school. Her long light brown hair, her teasing brown eyes. She had been very skinny and muscular, wearing skimpy clothes and a lot of makeup to look older. She hadn't needed it though. Erik had found her beautiful as she was and the thought of what happened to her made his chest constrict. Christine waited patiently for him.

"Luciana was two years younger than me. She came home from boarding school for holidays a few times. She always teased me, supposedly in a sweet way, but it was unsettling for me. I'd never had much contact with girls and she actually seemed interested in me. I think the mask was intriguing to her childish curiosity. She graduated around the time I'd been working for her father for two years. I don't know what plans she had for the future." Why hadn't he asked? He had probably been afraid, but he couldn't remember anymore. Much of it had been buried deep inside of him.

"I liked her and she claimed several times to be in love with me, but then she would destroy my belongings and torment me. She started to taunt me about taking off my mask. I became uneasy and angry. Giovanni was understanding of my anger and asked his daughter to stop, but to be honest he was never that stern with her. She was his youngest, a beauty and the apple of his eye. Looking back she was probably spoiled, but I didn't know how normal parent-child relationship worked." 

He saw Christine out of the corner of his eye, her face attentive and sympathetic. The horror of what was to come was difficult to express, so he tried to keep it to the hard facts.

"One day Luciana was bored. All day she was after me, taking the tools I was using and hiding them. I was frustrated, but did my best to kept calm for Giovanni's sake. Then she took my mask." He heard Christine gasping and closed his eyes tightly as he remembered the night at the masquerade where Christine unknowingly had removed his mask. Her gasp echoing in the staircase was still clear in his mind, as was the look on Luciana's face.

"We were on the terrace where we were working on replacing the crumbling stone wall. I tried to hide my face, but it was too late. She saw it and in shock she backed up to the wall." His voice cracked. He saw Christine with tears in her eyes. She knew what would come, but luckily she would never know Luciana looked as she fell. The girl hadn't seemed to notice the moment she fell, only his face. "I didn't reach her in time. Even her small frame was enough for the stone to give and she fell down from the terrace. The house was on top of a cliff and had a view of the sea and the beach, but right below were large rocks."

There had been blood everywhere when he had looked down, but all he had seen was her white dress and the fear in her dead eyes from seeing his face. She had died with his monstrosity in her mind.

"Giovanni came running. He had heard us both screaming. He saw me by the wall, without my mask. Then he saw Luciana down below." He clenched his eyes shut as if it would erase the hurt and despair he had seen in his adopted father's eyes. "He knew I was sensitive about my mask and that my temper was often vicious and even violent. He knew. So I ran." Tears fell inside his mask and Christine's hand touched his, but he withdrew from her. He couldn't bear her sympathy when he didn't deserve it. 

"I'd never used my last name. Giovanni gave my description, both with and without mask, to the police and my name, so I fled Italy in hope that I could escape it all. And I have. But now my face, or my mask at least, will be published in papers and online everywhere in France. It's only a matter of time before someone recognizes the connection." He looked gravely at the sweet woman next to him. "I'll be arrested, Christine, and tried for murder. I have no alibi and I fled the crime scene. And if you don't believe that I didn't touch her, I don't blame you. I'll let you leave." To his surprise she threw her arms around him in a sob.

"I believe you, Erik. Please don't doubt that." She mumbled as her mouth was buried in his shoulder. "I just don't want you to be arrested."

"It's my fault it happened and it's time I take some sort of responsibility."

"It was not your fault, Erik!" She withdrew and her determined eyes didn't leave much room for discussion. "You cannot be blamed for her taking off your mask nor for her being frightened of you. Don't blame yourself for an awful accident which you didn't even cause." He didn't agree with her, but he kept silent about it. 

"It won't matter, Christine. Not anymore. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. I don't know when, but someone will recognize me and bring me to justice." Once again she embraced him tightly as she cried. He couldn't help but cry as well. The thought of leaving his life behind had always been unbearable. Life in prison wouldn't be easy for him when he looked the way he did. But to end up in prison after finding Christine... It would kill him."

***

 

Erik didn't know how long they cried and he didn't notice that they had fallen asleep, but he awoke before dawn to screaming - a desperate terrible screaming - and then a bump. He sat up in his bed and immediately saw Christine tangled in a sheet on the floor. She was crying in her sleep. Instantly he jumped off the bed and took her into his arms. She was shaking.

"Erik, no, don't! Please!" She cried and the words filled him with guilt. His anger last night and his awful story about Luciana had had an impact on Christine. She would forever be haunted by his ghosts now.

"Christine, Christine, it's okay. You're dreaming." He cooed while he stroked her hair and rocked her as she slowly woke up from her nightmare. Her tears didn't stop as her sleepy and shocked eyes focused on him, but she wrapped her arms around him.

"Erik?" She sounded disbelieving and her hands began tracing his masked face, seemingly in a daze, but she focused as he tensed when her fingers skimmed at edge of his mask. "You're alive?" He nodded carefully. Why shouldn't he be?

"I dreamed that someone took you away and then you were dying in my arms." She barely held back a sob. He was surprised since he had expected that her nightmare was about him murdering a young girl or perhaps even attacking Christine herself. He'd seen the fear in her eyes when she witnessed his sudden outburst at their dinner last night. But her nightmare hadn't been fear of him, but fear for him.

"Erik, please tell me we'll figure something out. I don't want you to go to prison." He didn't want to lie to her, he never did. But when her tearful blue eyes looked into his in the emerging light of the rising sun from the window, he couldn't say no. They _would_ find a solution somehow.

"I promise we'll figure this out. I don't want to be without you." She gripped his hair as the words left his mouth and crashed her lips to his, taking his breath away. Eagerly he began to reciprocate, his desperation matching hers. He needed her, now more than ever and she seemed to feel the same. Foregoing the option of unbuttoning his shirt, she pulled it over his head, briefly disrupting their exploring lips. Her t-shirt followed swiftly, as did her bra. His lips left hers in search of her bare chest.

"Erik, your mask..." She whispered and even in the dim light he noticed the scrape from his mask on her skin. He quickly removed it without lifting his head and buried his face in her breasts. She moaned softly as his thumbs swept over her tight nipples while he licked the underside of each glorious breast in his hands. He rolled her nipples with the pressure he knew she liked, making her arch into his palms.

Suddenly she rolled them over, straddling him so he clearly felt her soft warmth against his erection, despite the clothes between them. Their lips barely touched before her tongue claimed his mouth again. He returned it, her desire for him intoxicating and, in spite of the awful night, impossible to resist.

She touched his thin chest, her hands running over his body with a mild pressure as if to assure herself that he was in fact alive. Her hands were warm against his chilled skin and he felt the heat of his body rising as her hands explored. His own hands ventured into her hair and brushed through it with his fingers. He absolutely loved her thick mane of untameable curls and as he gripped the coils a little, she moaned and pushed herself further against him.

Her hands were at his trousers, unfastening his belt, but he interrupted them by rolling her over again. In a few swift moves she was naked, except for her panties and socks. He forgot about those when he felt the hard peaks of her breasts against his chest. He kissed his way down to her right breast while his hand kneaded the left. Her breath caught in her throat as he without warning bit her nipple, then pressed his cupped hand against her mound.

"I need you inside me." Her voice was loud and pleading. He could've teased her then, but he needed to feel her just as much. He slid her panties off her slim legs, taking her socks off at the same time, then quickly got rid of his trousers and boxers before lowering himself down on top of her.

He paused when he felt her wetness come in contact with his swollen head and looked down to see the incredible beauty beneath him. At his hesitation she opened her eyes. The erupting daylight shimmered in her sea blue orbs and his breath left him as he realized that she was _it_ for him. There would be no other and perhaps there had never been others - not just because of his face nor his aversion to people - but simply because he had always completely belonged to her.

All sense left him. He loved her. He had never loved anyone like this and the thought of losing her, of leaving her for whatever reason tore a hole in his chest.

"Erik." His name on her lips were sweeter than ever. She wrapped her legs around him and he couldn't bear to be so far away from her anymore. She pulled him into her as he thrust forward, making their coupling forceful and wild. He groaned in lust as she gripped him everywhere; her legs around his waist, her hands at his shoulders and her inner walls where he was most sensitive. She keened in his ear and bit his earlobe. For a moment he was sure that he would come instantly, but thankfully he regained control.

Needing to take it slow, to avoid coming too soon, but also to savor the feeling of her around him, he lowered himself completely to her and unrushed began to move gently in and out of her. He felt every ripple of her core and in her eyes he saw how she felt everything as well. He kissed her tenderly, caressing her face and her throat while moving inside her. She explored him as well, making him feel truly... happy. He broke their kiss to look her deeply in the eyes.

"I love you, Christine." He whispered, briefly closing his eyes at the confession. But he needed to tell her because he didn't know what would happen when the sun had risen. "Oh God, how I love you." Her eyes widened and her core clenched around his cock so hard that he moaned, but it was swallowed by her as she kissed him.

"Erik, I love you." She purred against his lips. The words made him stop moving as he absorbed her words. He hadn't expected her to return the sentiments. No one had ever said that to him. Luciana had claimed to be in love with him and Christine had revealed that she had fallen in love with him as he had with her, but to truly be loved... Moisture gathered in his eyes and when he spoke, it sounded strangled and pathetic.

"You love me?" He searched her eyes to find a lie or deception, but there was no such thing in her. She gripped his face and it wasn't until then he remembered that he had removed his mask. She was saying this to his distorted face without recoiling or even looking disturbed.

"I love you, Erik. I love all of you." Her lips brushed over his again and she lifted her hips to regain friction where they were joined. He half sobbed, half groaned against her and began moving again with renewed fire. This was what it was like to be loved, to make love. The notion was enough for him to nearly lose control. He gripped the sheets in his hands to restrain himself because he wasn't going over the precipice without her.

Still keeping the slow pace, he shifted slightly and snaked a hand around her back to lift her abdomen enough, so his strokes would drag his cock directly over the spot that made her scream. Three strokes was enough to make her climax wildly, crying out his name. He continued to prolong her pleasure. He wanted to give her everything he had.

His other hand reached down between them, so each thrust caused his thumb to brush against her clit at the same time as he hit the spot inside her. She screamed his name underneath him as another wave hit her. It was too powerful, the way she convulsed around his cock and finally he let go, losing all sense of self in her depths. 

Slowly they came down together, but none of them moved. He kept most of his weight off her as he rested his forehead against hers. They opened their eyes at the same time and in hers he saw it: Love. He gripped her tightly, burying his face in her neck and willed himself not to cry when she whispered words of love in his ear.


	5. Incarceration

Nadir cleaned away the remainders of Erik's and Christine's dinner, then sat down in an armchair and pulled out his phone. Now that Christine was comforting his broken friend, he would leave them be for a while. Meanwhile he could find out what exactly the reporters knew. 

Nadir was well aware of the main reason why Erik was troubled about the press taking pictures of him and seeing the mask. The tragedy in Italy had haunted his friend for years and though Nadir had tried to persuade Erik to sort out the mess in the past or at least seek help to process the trauma that was eating him up inside, Erik had stubbornly refused everything. 

After it had happened, Erik had disappeared without a trace for two years and when he had finally returned, he wouldn't speak of Giovanni and Luciana nor of the two years he'd been off the grid. However Nadir had a feeling that he'd been doing something illegal because he had returned with a lot of money. At the time Nadir had been working as a private investigator with the police and Erik had probably thought that his friend would turn him in if he spoke of his activities. No matter how good friends they had become over the years, Erik didn't quite trust Nadir enough.

Christine seemed to have broken through most of the walls Erik had so carefully built up around him, but it had a price. Erik's mood swings had gotten a lot worse and while Nadir could handle it, the cast and crew in the theater were frightened by the magnitude of Erik's rage when he was unsatisfied with rehearsals these days. Still, Nadir would never tell his friend or Christine any of this. He wished all the happiness in the world for Erik who Christine had made happier than ever.

This thing with the press was just another hurdle. Nadir didn't really believe that the word about Erik's mask would travel to Italy. His father had been a big deal in France, but other countries didn't care about a French tax evader or his offspring.

He checked all the regular news sites. Only the tabloids had written about Erik, speculating whether his inheritance had bought the grand apartment and if the mask hid recent plastic surgery. There were several pictures of a dumbfounded Erik and of Christine who mostly looked to be worried about Erik's reaction. She was mentioned as Erik's friend most places, but Closer called her a mistress.

Nadir was glad that the reporters hadn't questioned him about Erik when he had gotten to the apartment. He had heard them speaking about Erik, but none of them knew that he was his friend. Nadir hated the press, especially after he had worked as a private eye and seen how reporters could disrupt the police's investigations. Now he hated them because they were ruining Erik's life.

After he had been through every mention of the Le Seine family in the last year, he called up an old friend from the police and asked her to find out who leaked the location of Erik's apartment to the press. His address wasn't public record and not many knew his face, or rather mask, so the press had gotten a tip from someone. She could easily attain such information. He also asked her to keep him apprised of any mention of a possible arrest in Paris involving the Italian Polizia.

Then he went down to the bedroom to check on Erik and Christine. They were fast asleep in each other's arms. Nadir closed the door and decided that it was safe for him to go home and catch up on some sleep. He would return in the morning and help his friend however he could.

***

 

He returned around 8 o'clock the following morning. Respecting the couple's privacy, he rang the doorbell, even though he had a key. A surprisingly cheerful Erik opened the door.

"Hello, Daroga!" Nadir hated that nickname. His father had been a police chief in Iran and Nadir had often mentioned his father as 'the Daroga'. After Nadir had starting working as a private eye, Erik had begun to call him the same thing in sheer mockery. 

"How good of you to come. Do you want breakfast?" While words like these only could sound sarcastic coming from Erik's mouth, it seemed that he was completely genuine. And it was easy to see why: Christine sat on the kitchen table, eating a piece of bacon. She wasn't wearing any makeup, her skin was flushed and her hair charmingly rumbled. Sitting with her dangling feet clad in adorable kitty socks, jeans and Erik's shirt, she was absolutely stunning. She smiled brightly and waved at Nadir who bowed his head slightly and hoped that he didn't blush. No wonder that Erik was in such a good mood. 

"No, thank you, I've already eaten. I would like some coffee though." It was a little eerie when Erik himself poured his friend a cup of coffee, adding the amount of sugar that he liked. Erik rarely did anything so mundane for Nadir.

Erik finished cooking while Christine set the small table by the floor-to-ceiling windows and pulled up an extra chair for their guest. Nadir thanked her and sat down with his coffee as the third wheel he was. He noticed the playful way Erik acted around Christine and once again was reminded why he could handle Erik's extra mood swings - his friend was happy in moments like these and he deserved to be. At the some point Erik would get used to it and the mood swings would lessen. 

The couple ate in comfortable silence while Nadir sipped his coffee. The way the two lovebirds glanced at each other and played footsie under the table made him a little uncomfortable, like he was interrupting something significant, but the issues concerning the press needed to be addressed. For now he let them finish their breakfast. He was especially glad to see Erik eating since he rarely remembered to do that and often ate very little. That wasn't the case this morning. 

"Right, Daroga," Erik said as he pushed his plate away. "Tell us what is happening. I trust the reporters are still down there." The sudden anxiety in his voice was well hidden, but Nadir noticed it. He wished he could tell them that the reporters had left, but the truth was that there were more of them and they seemed to have set up a camp of sorts.

"Yes. It seems that they're quite persistent." Nadir pulled out his phone with the information he had obtained about the person who had leaked Erik's location. "I asked around to find out how they found your address, Erik. Do any of you know a Philippe de Chagny?" Erik contemplated the name for a moment, then looked at Christine in realization. She already had wide eyes.

"Dammit, Philippe! You son of a bitch!" The harsh words out of Christine's sweet mouth were surprising, as was her sudden anger. She rose from her chair and began pacing the room.

"Christine met him yesterday right outside my building. He asked if my father was Charles le Seine. I should've said no." Erik mumbled, obviously unsettled by the information or perhaps Christine's anger.

"This whole thing is my fault!" Her voice broke as she spoke and Erik was quickly at her side to comfort her. It warmed Nadir's old heart.

"No, it isn't. Of course it's not. You couldn't have known that he would contact the press. None of us could've known."

"But why would he do it?" Nadir asked. "Who is he to you?"

"He's my ex-boyfriend's brother." Christine turned away from Erik's embrace, but kept her hand entwined with his. "Philippe is the vice president of de Chagny's Sporting Goods, a very successful business chain. When their father dies, which probably will be within a year as he is terminally ill, Philippe will take over the business." Nadir knew that he had heard that last name before.

"Philippe is extremely disliked by their employees and their business partners. His recent divorce from America's sweetheart, the actress Sorelli hasn't helped. She was pregnant and he cheated on her. He isn't a very nice man. When Raoul and I started dating, he hated me because I came from a poor family, but then his spin doctor informed him that having me, a 'lower class citizen' in the family was good for their image. Since then he was more than happy that Raoul and I were together." She looked over at Erik.

"According to Raoul his brother was quite mad when I broke up with Raoul. The few times I have met him since, he has been trying to persuade me to get back together with Raoul. I don't know if that's the reason why he told the press about Erik, it seems so stupid, but with the grudges he holds, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the reason." Erik stroked her back and kissed her temple.

"You can't blame yourself for that." He whispered, though Nadir heard it well enough.

"I'm going to call Raoul and tell him to give his brother an earful. This isn't acceptable!" She grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter and walked down the hall towards the bedroom. Nadir could hear her angry voice on the way.

"And the Polizia?" Erik asked Nadir who had been looking after his friend's impassioned girlfriend.

"My source will contact me immediately if there's any mention of them in Paris." Erik nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing else. He began clearing the table and Nadir helped him in silence.

The rest of the day was spent with waiting. For what, none of them were quite sure. Erik and Christine played and sang together while Nadir checked up on the tabloids. Then Christine asked him to go to her apartment and get some things that Meg had already packed for her. She had plans of staying with Erik until it all had blown over, something Erik seemed pretty excited with. Nadir had a feeling that the couple wanted some time alone as well, so he didn't rush getting Christine's things. 

In the evening Erik cooked dinner while Nadir told Christine about living in Iran, which Christine had always thought was called Persia. The subject was mostly on the Iranian Revolution in 1979 where the totalitarian theocracy was introduced and changed the way of life for many, something Nadir felt very passionate about. His political tirade was interrupted by his phone.

"Good evening, Martine." He answered it instantly, seeing her name on his caller ID. Nadina Martine had just been an officer when Nadir was a private eye and they had helped each other out a few times. Now she was a lead detective, involved in mostly missing persons, but she had eyes on everything. One time she helped him with an actress who hadn't shown up for a few rehearsals. It turned out that she had been taken by a human trafficking ring, but Martine had managed to track them down. He was lucky to have her as a contact.

"Nadir, it's bad news. We have an arrest order for your friend, on behalf of the Rieti Polizia. I guess you were right to be cautious." Nadir tried to keep his expression impassive as the detective confirmed that this ordeal would have the worst possible outcome for his oldest friend. Erik noticed though because he turned off the stove and sat down next to Nadir, burning a hole in him with those light green eyes.

"I see. How long do you think...?" He kept his eyes on the napkin his left hand was fiddling with.

"An hour at most. They're pretty insistent."

"Alright. Thank you, Martine. I owe you. Au revoir." 

"Ask him to corroborate. It'll be better if he really is innocent. Au revoir, Nadir." Martine hung up and almost instantly Erik spoke.

"They're coming, aren't they?" Erik's voice was already resigned, despite the desperate look in his eyes. Nadir only nodded, but it was enough to make Christine gasp beside him. 

"It can't be real." Her voice shook and Erik got up from his chair to kneel beside her, gripping her hands in his. He whispered something in her ear and she nodded quietly.

"When?" Erik focused on Nadir again.

"An hour perhaps, maybe less."

"I'll pack a few things then." Erik pulled Christine up and hugged her tightly as she cried silently. Nadir looked away, but he could see Erik's tearful eyes reflected in the window. The man's eyes might as well have been two of the yellow lights from the city in the horizon.

When Christine began to calm down, Erik asked her to eat something while he packed. He brought out dinner, except for the fried green beans which weren't finished since he had turned off the stove when Nadir's phone rang. Christine didn't seem interested in eating and neither was Nadir. He thought about Martine's words.

"Erik, the detective asked me to tell you that... your chances are a lot better if you just play along. And I agree. Fighting this out of a courtroom will only make things worse."

"My chances of what?" He shouted, making the other two in the room jump. "How in the world can things get any worse? They think I goddamn murdered of a young girl and then I fled the country!" His words almost made Nadir wanting to be swallowed up by the earth and he expected Christine to start crying again, but instead she looked angry. Extremely angry. She rose from her chair and turned to Erik.

"You don't have to yell, we can hear you. Nadir is trying to help you! No matter what you did, you have a right to a fair trial and you will get that. But it won't matter if you screw this up beforehand! Now please, just corroborate with the police, go along with all that and when you stand before a judge, you can plead your case."

Nadir looked at her in awe. Christine was actually standing up to Erik, something Nadir hadn't seen anyone do before - barely even himself - and it was working. Erik's face under the mask seemed to crumble and suddenly he fell to his knees in front of Christine, gripping her legs tightly. She seemed as surprised as Nadir was.

"I don't want to leave you." He murmured, possibly sobbed into her jeans. Nadir decided to make himself scarce and awkwardly sneaked off to the hall that led to the music room and bedroom. It seemed that it was only awkward for him because the couple didn't notice him.

Nadir pulled out his phone again and called Darius to cancel all their appointments and rehearsals the next week. It was off season anyway. Darius was actually their accountant, but he joked about being used as an assistant, so he might as well act like it. They paid him enough anyway. Then Nadir booked seats on a plane for the next day to Italy and called Meg to appraise her of the situation. She promised to come as moral support for Christine which Nadir was happy to hear. He didn't know her enough to handle the immediate pain of seeing Erik being led away, especially not since it would pain Nadir as well.

As he hung off the phone with Meg, he saw Erik coming down the hall. His friend was only 35 and often looked younger because of the mask, but right now he could easily have been older than Nadir's own age of 41.

"You were right, of course." Erik mumbled as he came closer. "I won't make a fuss. But I need you to accompany Christine to Italy. She has assured me that she can miss a few classes the next week." Nadir would've liked at least a 'please' in that sentence, but Erik wasn't the type to ask nicely and Nadir had long ago accepted that. While he might've goaded Erik into saying it on another occasion, today wasn't the day for it.

"It was my plan. I've already booked the tickets." Erik's thin lips uplifted slightly at his words and it made Nadir happy to know that he could help in some ways. Taking care of Christine was one of them. 

"You're a good man, Daroga." Erik lifted his arm and his hand hovered over Nadir's back for a moment before he decided to follow through and pat him on the back. It was at least every bit as awkward for Nadir as it was for Erik. The latter hurried into his bedroom to pack a messenger bag while Nadir walked down to the living room again.

Christine was there, but in the couch with a glass of red wine. Nadir nodded to her, then found the bottle of whiskey in the lower cabinet and poured himself a healthy glass. Then he joined her on the couch in fairly comfortable silence. He liked Christine, truly, and normally they could chat about anything, but right now only one thing was on their mind and none of them wanted to talk about it. It was better to stay silent for now.

When Erik had finished packing, he began cleaning up in the kitchen. A messy house was a pet peeve of his and Nadir knew that it was better to let him do it himself. He noticed that Erik was storing the uneaten dinner in the fridge which was strange since he wouldn't be back to eat it before the food would be spoiled. This thing would at least take a week, possibly much more. But Nadir left well enough alone and swore to return to the apartment soon to throw out the food.

Then someone rang the doorbell. They all froze and looked at the door. After a few beats Erik walked to the door in a few long strides and opened just as the doorbell rang again. It was only Meg, thank God.

"Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry to hear about this mess!" Meg threw her arms around Erik's waist, much to his surprise. He stood entirely stiff, still holding the door. Nadir resisted a giggle. Meg didn't seem to notice the tall man's tension, but instead moved on to Christine to hug her tightly. She also hugged Nadir briefly, though they had seen each other earlier when he had picked up Christine's things. 

He had become good friends with Christine's young roommate and though many people had joked about it, there wasn't anything between them, other than friendship. She was too young for him and he was definitely too old for her.

Erik finished in the kitchen, then sat down with the rest of them. Christine leaned against him and he absentmindedly stroked her loose curls like it was second nature to him. They talked about insignificant things, none of them needing to address the elephant in the room. They all knew what was to come and when Erik was taken away, the three of them left would discuss where to go next.

When the doorbell rang again, none of them were very surprised. Nadir swiftly rose to his feet to answer while the others followed with less hurry. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the way Erik's arm protectively wrapped around Christine's shoulder as Nadir opened the door. 

Outside stood two police officers and one detective.

"Erik le Seine?" The detective asked and Erik stepped forward with a solemn expression, still with his arm wrapped around Christine. "You're under arrest for the murder of Luciana Cancio. I've received an order from the police in Rieti to bring you to Italy where you will meet before a judge and plead your case. Do you understand?"

"I do and I will come willingly in hope that we can keep this quiet and discreet. If I can just say goodbye?" Erik gestured to the others and the detective nodded curtly. Erik let go of Christine and moved towards Meg and shook her hand. To Nadir's surprise he moved in to whisper something in Meg's ear and she smiled in response. Nadir was the next to say goodbye, but it was merely a handshake and an agreement to meet again in Italy tomorrow.

Then Erik moved over to Christine who was crying silently. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her tenderly. Nadir heard her whisper "I love you" and a small sob from Erik, something Nadir could imagine that his friend had never heard before in his life. Which was an awful thing to think about. Nadir had been told all his life by his family how loved he was and he had been in a few relationships where the word had come up. Why hadn't he ever told Erik that he loved him? Of course only as a friend or perhaps as a tantrum-proned little brother, but it still meant something. These things were so difficult to talk about, but to someone like Erik it would have been worth the awkwardness.

Erik and Christine finally managed to finish their goodbye and Erik took his bag over to the men who would take him away.

"We will need you to remove your.. ah... mask." The detective said while an officer took Erik's bag.

"I'd really advise that you let me keep it on." Erik said dryly. 

"Monsieur, we cannot let you leave with that mask on, regardless of the reporters downstairs. We've already made sure that we can use the fire escape in the lobby to avoid the worst of them." 

"Detective, I'll agree to let you see me without my mask and then decide for yourself if I can keep it on." Erik was stone cold in a way Nadir had never seen when it came to his friend's peculiar mask. Usually Erik would throw a fit when there was issues involving his mask.

The detective agreed and Erik carefully untied his mask and removed it from his face. Nadir had forgotten the awful face that Erik was cursed with. He was so used to seeing the mask and not the ghastly sight. The worst was definitely the lack of a nose which was probably what made the officers gasp. But the missing eyebrows and the way his eyes without the mask looked to be sunken into his skull gave you a feeling of looking at a Halloween decoration - one of those laughing skulls with glowing eyes. The almost transparent skin with the protruding veins just enforced that illusion.

Nadir could never understand why Erik wouldn't get some kind of plastic surgery to at least reduce the deformity, but he knew that it had something to do with his mother and surgeries she had forced on him as a child. Still, doctors were getting better every day and he had the money to find the very best surgeon, but Nadir knew that he wouldn't be the one to convince his friend of that.

He had to give the detective credit: He didn't show much of a surprise at the sight, though his slightly wide eyes gave him away. Nadir guessed that the detective had seen the sketch of Erik's face, as described by Giovanni, before coming here.

He was glad to see Meg had been looking away in respect of Erik. This wasn't the type of situation Erik would want anyone to see him in, something Meg was well aware of. 

But he was astonished when Christine walked over and kissed Erik on his deformed cheek without a slightest wince. Erik had told him that Christine fully accepted his face, but it had been clear that Erik hadn't quite believed it and so Nadir hadn't either. But there was no denying it when he saw it with his own eyes: Christine accepted Erik completely and she loved all of him.

"Yes, well, I think we can excuse you this one time in light of the press right outside." The detective muttered. "Just put on the mask and let's get on with it." Erik lifted his mask to his face, but Christine stopped him.

"One last goodbye." She whispered and kissed Erik's thin lips before taking the mask from him and tying it around his head. "See you soon." She was confident in her words and it obviously affected Erik. He nodded and took her hand to kiss her knuckles. Then he turned away and followed the detective and officers out the door. Christine stood and looked after them until the elevator doors closed.

When she closed the door to the apartment, she turned around with tears in her eyes and Meg ran over to hug her while Nadir stood and twisted his hands. He was not good at feeling useless.

"Meg," Christine asked when she had calmed down. "Can you drive with Nadir to our apartment and get my passport? It's in our messy drawer. I'd rather not go out in case the reporters are still there. They know who I am to Erik." 

"Of course, Christine. If you are sure that you're alright?"

"I am." She said reassuringly.

"Well, then I'll get some of my things as well and we can have a sleepover here until your flight leaves tomorrow!" Meg's happy tone was infecting and Nadir felt his spirits lift despite the awful situation. 

"Right then. Let's go." He said and gestured for Meg to lead.  
  
***

 

It took them less than half an hour to get to the apartment Meg shared with Christine and back again. There had still been a few reporters out when they had left Erik's place, but when they returned, everyone was gone. Apparently the press had been informed that Erik was gone or maybe the guard in the lobby had chased them away - he wasn't at his desk. Now Christine could at least leave without getting ambushed again.

When they arrived at the 5th floor, the door to Erik's apartment was wide open and to Nadir's surprise so was the door to Erik's neighbor's apartment where the lobby guard was talking to the neighbor. Nadir had never seen any sign of the man who lived on the same floor and he had even wondered a few times if Erik was crazy enough to have bought the other apartment as well just to have privacy, but it seemed that he wasn't _that_ crazy.

They cautiously entered Erik's apartment, but couldn't see Christine anywhere. Then the lobby guard came up behind them.

"You're M. le Seine's friends, right?"

"We are." Nadir answered. "What's going on here?" The guard looked uncomfortably from Nadir to Meg, shifting on his feet.

"It seems that the woman who was in the apartment was kidnapped."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The series will end with the next story Masca. Don't kill me!


End file.
